Music
by Raindrops on Roses
Summary: [Complete] Quiet moments with Severus and Hermione.
1. Nocturne in Green and Gold

Title: Nocturne in Green and Gold

Author: Shannon/Raindrops on Roses

Rating: G   
Category: Vignette

Spoilers: None.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

  


_Nocturne:   
1. A painting of a night scene.   
2. An instrumental composition of a pensive, dreamy mood, especially one for the piano._

She sat up in bed and threw the covers aside. She could not sleep. Standing, she threw on her robe and silently crept out of the dormitory. Where she was headed, she did not know.

She hurried down the stairs and through the empty common room. The fire was banked, giving off a warm, dark red glow. She slipped out of the portrait hole, taking care not to wake the Fat Lady.

She walked to the end of the vast corridor. Left or right? Impulsively, she turned left, toward the Astronomy Tower.

Climbing the staircase to the top of the tower, she observed the portraits on the walls. Most were sleeping at this time of night, but a few greeted her wordlessly.

Stepping out onto the bare stones of the Astronomy Tower, she shivered. She wrapped her bright yellow robe around her and tucked her hands in her pockets. She leaned her head back to look at the stars. It was a clear winter night, and the heavens went on for eternity. Her normally bookish nature seemed to have gone on holiday; instead of picking out individual constellations, she simply enjoyed the star-spattered canvas of the sky.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," a low voice sounded behind her. She tensed, then forced herself to relax.

"Professor Snape," she nodded. "It's a beautiful night, isn't it?"

"Indeed. Tell me, Miss Granger, what is the Head Girl doing out of bed at," he paused, and she supposed he was checking his watch, "one forty-five in the morning?"

"Not awaiting a rendezvous, if that's what you're thinking, Professor," she said, lips turning up at the corners. "No student in her right mind would come up here for a romantic interlude. It's freezing."

"Five points for your cheek, Miss Granger," he said idly. They stood in silence, staring up at the stars.

"Have you ever wondered what it would be like to touch a star?" she asked.

"I assume it would be rather hot," he replied dryly.

She had no idea why she was speaking to him, of all people, like this, but she continued. "I used to dream that I climbed into the sky and pulled a star down for a keepsake. It always felt cold to the touch; cold and hard, like a diamond." She doubted he cared. Perhaps that was why it was so easy to speak like this.

"Starlight has always contained magical qualities. If one is fortunate enough to capture it, it can be compressed and set into a ring, much like a diamond." She raised her eyebrows. Had he just voluntarily spoken to her?

"I didn't know that."

"Miss Granger, contrary to your belief, there is much you don't know." His biting words did not match his tone, and for once in her life, she was not sure of what to say. Taking one last long look at the dark sky, she sighed. She turned slowly.

"Good night, Professor," she said, meeting his eyes. They were as dark as the night sky--but without the light of the stars.

"Good night, Miss Granger," he replied, nodding stiffly. She left the Astronomy Tower as quietly as she had arrived. Her mind, rather than the quiet contentment that she had been seeking, was in a state of confusion.

She would get no sleep that night.


	2. Minuet in 3:4 Time

Title: Minuet in 3/4 Time

Author: Shannon/Raindrops on Roses

Rating: G   
Category: Vignette

Spoilers: None.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's Notes: I'd like to thank my reviewers for their wonderful support. I was unsure of posting "Nocturne" at first--it was my first Severus/Hermione fic (even if it wasn't exactly romance). I hope you enjoy this sequel.

  


_Minuet:   
1: a slow graceful dance in 3/4 time characterized by forward balancing, bowing, and toe pointing._

She was alone.

She entered the hall, drawing no attention to herself. This was her day to shine, but she relinquished the spotlight gracefully. She seated herself at a corner table and observed the rejoicing crowd.

After so many years of living in fear, he had been defeated. He snorted to himself. What the most powerful wizards in the world could not do, a triad of teenagers completed in a night.

She looked like no teenager, however. Her hair was swept up in a Grecian knot on the top of her head. Curls were artfully arranged around her expressive face. Bright brown eyes watched her friends dance and shout gleefully over the rowdy throng. She seemed content to remain on the sidelines--as he was.

Before he could reconsider, he stood and made his way over to her table. He took the chance to study her more closely. She was dressed in an elegant gown of dark blue silk--the same shade as the night sky reflected in the ceiling. She wore no jewelry other than a pair of diamond studs in her ears. She would never be considered other than passingly pretty, but she fascinated him in ways no blonde beauty ever had.

He stopped by a chair. "Miss Granger," he greeted her smoothly.

She smiled at him, something no one had done in years. "Professor Snape! Please, have a seat," she said, gesturing to the chair beside her. He did so silently. "It's so loud in here. How do you deal with this every day?" She paused, then laughed. "Oh, that's right--with an iron fist."

He raised an eyebrow. "Daring, Miss Granger."

She smiled cheekily. "Why not? I've already graduated--you can't even take House points from me." She sighed, suddenly melancholy. "I can't believe I'm leaving this place. Seven years is a long time."

"So it is." He did not approve of small talk, but she did not appear to stop anytime soon.

"I'm not sure what I'm going to do after Hogwarts. Harry wants to join the Aurory. Ron wants to play professional Quidditch." She paused. "But you don't care about that, do you?"

"Not particularly," he replied. He had not expected laughter to be her response.

"Truthful as always! If I ever need my ego punctured, I'll be sure to send you an owl."

"And what makes you so certain I'll respond?" he replied archly.

"Well, someone must have drilled proper etiquette into you. It can't be all potions ingredients and bitterness toward students in there." His face remained expressionless, but hers paled in shock. "I am sorry, Professor. That was completely uncalled for."

"Believe me, Miss Granger; I've heard worse," he said sardonically.

"That is no excuse," she said, obviously berating herself.

"Apology accepted." She smiled, relieved.

"So do you have any plans for the summer, sir?" she asked. He stared at her for a moment, uncertain of her intention in asking the question.

"None as of yet. Due to you and your friends, I find myself with a sudden excess of free time."

"Ah. You should go on holiday; get out of Hogwarts. You're a free man now, Professor." He blinked. He had not thought of it that way.

One of her friends came up to the table. "Come on, 'Mione! Join the party!"

"You know my name, Ronald--use it," she snapped irritably.

The redhead rolled his eyes. "Aw, you know I'm only joking, Hermione. It's a pet name, is all."

"Yes, well, I'm not your pet." He shook his head. She did the same, sighing as he walked away. Classical music replaced the popular music playing--the headmaster's choice, no doubt.

Her next question shocked him to the core.

"Would you like to dance?"


	3. Elegy For an Unknown Man

Title: Elegy For an Unknown Man

Author: Shannon/Raindrops on Roses

Rating: G   
Category: Vignette, Angst

Spoilers: None.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

  


_Elegy   
2a. A poem or song composed especially as a lament for a deceased person.   
3. A composition that is melancholy or pensive in tone._

She grieved in silence, as he would have wished.

She was in shock. He had lived through the war, suffering injustices no one could dream of, only to be killed now. Just as they were beginning to grow closer.

She had kept her word after she left. She owled him at least twice a week. He rarely responded, and when he did, it was only to answer a direct question. She told him about the research she was doing for St. Mungo's, how Harry was doing in training, how excited Ginny had been when Dean had proposed...

He eventually began to write back. His comments were snarky, as always, and she looked forward to each letter. She could imagine his sarcastic tone as she read, "Potter will end up getting himself killed someday--and it won't be in the line of duty."

When he had told her that her abilities were wasted on St. Mungo's, she had nearly fallen out of her chair. When he offered her his position, she did.

She had no idea why he was finally leaving, after twenty years of teaching. She asked, but he never replied. She owled the headmistress, who confirmed that the position was open--and that she was the only candidate he would consider to fill his vacancy. She had accepted immediately.

Now he was gone. Killed in an accident no one could have foreseen. There hadn't been enough of him to bury. She suppressed a shudder.

Few people had attended the funeral; he hadn't been a well-loved man. She had stood in the front row--the only one.

Nobody had understood the dark man. He would not have wanted them to. However, everyone needed someone to remember... so she did.

She stared at the tombstone. Dry-eyed, she placed a single daisy on his grave.


	4. Rhapsody in Silver and Red

Title: Rhapsody in Silver and Red

Author: Shannon/Raindrops on Roses

Rating: G   
Category: General

Spoilers: None.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

  


_Rhapsody   
3. A state of elated bliss; ecstasy.   
4. Music A usually instrumental composition of irregular form that often incorporates improvisation._

Hearing the knock on the door, she waved her wand. The door opened, and she turned back to her cauldron. "You're late, Mr. Allenby."

"I'm sorry, Professor," the boy squeaked. "Peeves--"

"Was being Peeves, no doubt," she sighed. "Five points for being five minutes late. You know what to do." 

The second-year dutifully picked up the bucket and filled it with warm water. He set to work scrubbing the benches clean.

He had earned himself detention when he had caused a classmate's potion to explode. This was his third night serving it. 

It was also her birthday. She was twenty-one today, and no one had noticed. Well, her parents had, of course. They had sent her a gift certificate to Flourish and Blotts. At least it was something useful. But sometimes... she wanted a silly gift. Something that wouldn't be put toward her classes.

She sighed and stirred in ground flutterby leaves. Harry was off on some secret mission, and Ron was on an international Quidditch tour. Her fellow professors had their own lives to lead--she supposed she should not expect to be fussed over.

It was still disappointing. Oh, well. She would just retreat into her room after young Mr. Allenby completed his assignment and spend the rest of the evening reading. It wasn't much of a birthday celebration, but she didn't feel like going out by herself.

Suddenly, an owl appeared at the window. She made sure the contents of her cauldron were simmering steadily, then walked over and opened the window. The owl flew in and perched on the desk. It glared at her for keeping it waiting.

She removed the package tied to its leg. The nondescript barn owl ruffled its plumage and flew off into the night, not waiting for a reply.

She shook the small box in curiosity. It made no sound. She opened it carefully. A piece of parchment fluttered out, but that was not the item that caught her attention. She gasped.

A beautiful ring was nestled in the center of the box. It contained a beautifully-cut diamond, flanked on either side by rubies, set in silver. The ring itself was intricately knotted--she couldn't tell the age. It could be brand-new, or it could be ancient.

She slipped the ring on her finger. It was a perfect fit--it did not even seem to have an enchantment on it to make it shrink or enlarge to her size. She gazed at the stone. It had a sparkle to it that she had never seen before in a diamond. Not that she had seen very many diamonds.

She walked over to the window to see if the owl was anywhere nearby. It wasn't--but something caught her eye. She looked down--and her eyes widened in shock.

By the window, where it was darker, the ring seemed to shine with a light of its own. She removed it and held it in front of her eyes. Compressed starlight? But who...?

She hurried back to her desk and scrambled for the parchment, hoping it was signed. It was not, but the handwriting--and the terse message--gave the giver away. 'Merry Christmas, Miss Granger.' She had seen that handwriting for nearly ten years. It was a gift from him.

But how could it be? He was dead. Buried over a year ago. A little niggling voice whispered in the back of her head. They had never found his body...

"Professor? I'm finished," a voice interrupted her musings.

She looked up, startled. "Very well, Mr. Allenby. You are dismissed. Be here at the same time tomorrow night." The boy nodded and hurried out the door.

She sat at the desk, absently twisting the ring on her finger. She waved her hand. The candles in the room flickered out. The clear stone lit up the room... but not as much as her smile did.


End file.
